Garden of Noncoty
by Madrona
Summary: Frodo makes it to the 'undying lands' to discover a race of fairies. Meets kilter, who steals his heart and shows him that he still has life to live. Fairies, i know kind of cheesy. Wrote before reading the Silmarillion, so created my own 'undying land


Frodo and other characters like that are not mine, but all belong to Tolkien, the king. Kilt is my creation. Yeah that's all I have to say. Give this story time. It's long, but I think it's good.  
  
Chapter One  
  
A burst of bush pollen and pine needles swirled on the dirt ground of the settler's camp. It winded through the grasses and low bushes, in between the crates and boxes, sometimes being crushed by feet or ridden through by the occasional horse. But finally it made it to the sand and the sea. It splashed up against the waves to mix with foam and spray. Some of the dust split away and headed for a craft just pulling upon the shore. A slab of wood was thrown over the side and dug into the sand. Some of the dust and needles climbed up the plank to meet with feet that it had seen many times before in the last few years. Light feet that trended upon the ground with barely a print. These belonged to the race of elves.  
The land remembered this kind from long ago, from the time of ancient kings. Now these creatures had returned to see the Undying Lands.  
The dust cloud billowed and swirled around the bottom of the landing. At that moment two feet met a ground that had never been trend upon by this people. They were huge with furry toes and tops. The soles were leathery and not sensitive to the terrain. The wind just then blew the dust up and around the figure, whipping the cloak up to shade his pale face. Elves from the boat whispered and smiled warmly upon the lone hobbit. Another gust of wind ruffled his hair and chilled him to the skin. He pulled his cloak tighter around his small body and looked out on a land that would be forever his home. There are so many trees. Like a forest that goes on forever he thought to himself. Frodo Baggins had expected something different of where they were heading when he left the Shire. He thought that it would be like Lothlorien, the Elfish forest, aglow with perfection and light. This was like the place he had left, except...except he was going to stay.  
Frodo didn't turn at the sound of footsteps behind him. A sigh went out of him when he felt Gandalf's hand on his shoulder. "Well, what do you think Frodo Baggins?"  
Frodo sighed again and took a moment to answer. Then, with sparkling blue eyes turned up to Gandalf, answered, "It's lovely. But not what I expected. I'm not sure if that is a bad or good thing yet."  
Gandalf chuckled and patted him once more. The old Wizard in White turned back up to the boat and watched as Elrond, former Lord of Rivendell, descended the platform. Next came Lord Celeborn and Galadriel the Lady of Lorien. Various elves of the lord and lady followed afterward, carrying trunks and supplies. Gandalf hobbled to the side of the cluster to speak softly with the Lords and the Lady. Frodo paid no mind and was not thought rude for it. He had grown better acquainted with them, even Gandalf who Frodo thought he knew so well only to realized he barely knew him at all. They would pay no mind if Frodo took a better view of the place where he would be spending the rest of his life.  
Frodo wandered aimlessly clutching his pack upon his back. He stopped and grinned. The feel of a load on his back and sight of new land reminded him of traveling with his nine companions. With Boromir, Legolas, the elf prince of Mirkwood, Glimi from the Lonely Mountain, and Aragorn who was King of Gondor. But the four hobbits would always think of him as Strider, the dusty Ranger.  
Then he thought of his three fellow hobbits. Peregrin, Meriadoc, and Sam. Dear, dear Sam. But at the thought of traveling, he always remembered why they had been traveling and to where. He shuddered and returned his thoughts to the present. He dug his massive feet into the wet sand as he looked out to the sea. He still marveled at the size of it. How it seemed to go on till the end of the world. It had been quite a horror when he had just boarded at the Grey Havens. At first he had been full of determination and never actually gave a thought about what it would be like on the open ocean. He realized soon enough. When the line of land had disappeared into the water he wept because he didn't just leave his home behind. He left his life, his family, and he left behind Sam. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but it was right. When night came his small body became aware that he was rocking in a boat on a large expanse of water. A few days later Gandalf found him losing his lunch over the ship. He had given Frodo some root to settle his stomach and Frodo stayed in bed for half of the journey. Once his stomach adjusted to it he saw it differently. It was like they were the last living creatures alive. On bright days he could see through the water clearly. The elves would point out the fish they knew to him. On other days he would sit at the keel of the boat, wrapped tightly in his cloak, and breath in the salty air and savor the wind on his face. He came to understand why the elves loved the sea so much. The hobbit turned his back on the ocean and towards another frontier when he saw something flutter within a dogwood bush. He tilted his head a bit to get a better view. There was a different color then the red petals of the plant. Something light blue and glittery. His eyes grew larger as he saw two shining eyes starring back at him, through the branches covering up its face. Involuntarily he took a step forward. The creature within saw the motion and rattled the bushes. Frodo saw that it was having some trouble getting itself loose. With a final jerk it crashed against one of the inner walls of the bush and fluttered away into the safety of the tree branches.  
His massive foot took a step back to where it was before. The creature wasn't a bird because its wings would have made a different sound. This creature had insect wings. Like a dragonfly. But it couldn't be that either for it had eyes. Human like eyes. Images of dreadful creatures and forms flinted through his thoughts before he put a clamp down on them. He had left all of that behind him. They couldn't be here. This was the Undying Lands for heaven's sake. Still Frodo was curious about what it was. He was just stepping over to the bush to see if the animal had left anything behind when Gandalf called him over.  
"The elves tell me that they have a perfect site for your hobbit hole to be!" Gandalf lowered his rounded hands away from his mouth and turned back to the two elves that he had been speaking to.  
Frodo turned his back upon the bush and headed to where Gandalf was standing. Frodo stopped and slowly turned his face to the dogwood. He raised his sky blue eyes to the branches of the woods. There are other creatures besides squirrels and birds watching from those leaves.  
  
A year and a half later  
  
Frodo stepped out of his door into the sun. With hands on hips he breathed deeply the scent of fresh flowing water. His childlike features crinkled into a smile. The hobbits back in the Shire would be horrified that he liked the smell. Even more so if they knew that he had built his hobbit hole near a small river and liked to sit by it and relax. They wouldn't understand how soothing it was. He was still nervous about actually going in, but he enjoyed being around it.  
Mr. Baggins walked down the two steps from his door and lingered on the cobbled walkway leading to his little wooden gate and fence that surrounded his garden. With hands partly stuck in the high pockets of his green waistcoat he inspected his growth. Coming out of his residence to the left was a small flower garden with a mix of plant seeds he brought with him and native flowers of goldenrods, windflowers, and lady's slipper. To the right was a much larger plot of vegetables such as carrots, cabbage, cauliflower, etc. Above the river to the right was a field of wheat outside of his fence. Frodo looked up from his inspection to gaze upon the rest of his little plot. There was a tall oak tree outside of the fence on the slight slope towards the river. To the right passed the hill of wheat, which the hobbit hole was built into, sloped off into a clearing of grass where it suddenly met the edge of the woods. For everything else that he didn't produce himself like milk and clothes he went to the elf dwelling within the woods.  
He looked at all of this, pleased and very grateful for the help of the elves in constructing his hobbit home. Everything else might feel new and strange, but this brought some feelings of familiarity. He should really thank the Natives who helped also. If he ever gets the chance to see them again. The elves had established a relationship with them considering that they were going to live with the people on their land. He had seen them from afar when they talked with Elrond. He did not like to admit, even to himself, that he hid from them behind a wall of the tent that the elves were living in. They were tall with strong features. Their skins were bronze in color and they had long straight black hair. They wore skins of animals with beaded embroidery and feathers upon their breastplates. All the elves liked them very much and when he had asked about them the elves had told him that they were a peaceful people who worshipped the land.  
They had come with the elves and helped with the construction of his dwelling with labor and advice. Although they did not understand the purpose of building a permanent wooden dwelling. Frodo had been surprised to learn that they did not live in buildings like the East was wont to build. He didn't see anything wrong with that and therefore left it alone.  
  
They had seemed pleased with the idea of building it within the ground and also seemed pleased with him. When the men would pass him by carrying wood, while he directed and help build, they would smile down at him and whisper to each other. Frodo never understood what they said, but an elf told him once that some thought of him as a kind of magical creature of the dirt. Frodo didn't really like being considered a kind of mole, but not wanting to offend he left that be too. The thing that got to him somewhat was when the women would bring food to the workers and have their children tag along. The little ones would poke at him with fingers and even sticks, chattering and laughing the whole time. Frodo was offended when no one would come to his defense right away. The women would laugh at first then none to quickly would scoot the children off. The most humiliating time was when they started to steal his clothing from his person. They just took his favorite maroon waistcoat with the gold buttons when Gandalf rode up to see how work was progressing. He laughed in great shouts when he saw Frodo sitting on the ground with only his shirt and a boy walking around with his waistcoat.  
Eventually they stopped their pestering and he grew to like them very much. Frodo would give them piggyback rides and teach them songs in the sunlight.  
At last the job was finished and the Natives had left. He hadn't seen them since, but he did give some buttons to the kids that they had admired.  
Frodo put his hands on his hips and thought to himself they have probably been watching me though, among other things. At the thought he tiptoed softly, and that is really softly for hobbits don't make a sound when they really want to, in the direction of some dogwoods. He was right above one and with a sudden motion stuck his hand into it. Stirring around he pulled out his empty hand with a thoughtful expression. With a shrug he dusted off his working coat of dark green wool and headed down the slope towards the river. Not since the elves and himself first landed did he find any sign of the odd little creature in the bushes. He often pondered about it and at night sometimes could swear that he wasn't alone. He would look to the branches of the oak and see nothing. Netherless he would hurry inside and close his round little door. Frodo would then berate himself over this and say that he was just too cowardly. But he had learned never to be too careful. Today and during most days he would relax and enjoy himself.  
While smoking his pipe down near the edge of the gentle stream he had observed many animals in it. One time he had seen an animal with a flat leathery tail carrying a large tree branch, leaves and all, in his two big front teeth upstream. That was the most action he had seen down there so far. He pulled out his pipe, like many times before, and filled it with some smoke weed that grew here in large supplies. Frodo didn't light it right away and instead observed the feeding of a stork across the running water. The river was flowing like always with small ripples upon its surface when something different caught his eyes. A yellow sort of color just beneath the surface of the water. It moved quickly and had a sparkly hue to it. At first he thought that it was some kind of fish. But as it got closer to the bank he saw that it was much too large for a fish to live in a river and it had limbs that were thrusting forward. The pipe was forgotten, held in his output hand as he was transfixed upon what he now knew as the figure of a person. A woman person. Her head broke the water as her feet struck shallow water. She stood with water cascading off of her and took a couple of steps so that her feet were on the warm grass. Frodo's sky blue eyes grew wide and he stood in absolute shock. She was lovely. She was his size if but an inch shorter. Her hands were graceful and she put a few wet strands of hair out of her face and behind her ears. Actually she was all gracefulness from her dainty feet that were in wet leather tied up sandals to her slim waist and chest. She started to shake her shoulders and the trembling spread through her whole body till she looked like a soggy dog drying itself. Only she was shaking so fast she was a blur. She stopped suddenly and to his already amazed state was surprised to see that she was almost completely dry if but a bit damp. She had wheat golden hair that waved and curled down to her waist. Her clothes that had been dark and heavy when she came out were light and almost lacy. Her skirts were in points where the tips touched her knees and the neckline was 'V' shaped. Her sleeves were slight and also hanging towards the ground in points. She wore nothing else. No jewels or extra clothing, but that might be because she was swimming and taken them off. Her things were in a yellow color light. Like sunlight was shining right off it. As he stared longer at her he realized that her whole form was radiating a shiny glow like she was projecting the sunlight instead of receiving it. Frodo still stood completely still while she arranged her skirts to her satisfaction. She did not know he was there until she walked forward a little and saw him. Her expression mirrored his. She was surprised to see him there too. He waited for her to become embarrass and run off, but she stood there just looking at him. Her eyes had a curious glint in them and she tilted her head to the side to observe him better. Her slight smile made him catch his breath. She stepped towards the motionless Frodo cautiously and finally spoke in soft tones, "What are you?" His eyes became wider and he gulped loudly. Without a single stutter, which surprised him, he answered, "A hobbit." Her pink gold tinged lips rounded into a soft 'O' shape and she said nothing more. Frodo breathed hard in the silence that followed. Neither said a word. Finally Frodo built up courage to ask in return, "What are you?" The slight creature smiled widely now in pleasure which sent a shock of lighting through his system. "A fairy," she replied. She took another step up the slope towards him when the sounds of horse's hooves came from the woods. She flinched back and in her face he could read an expression of complete fear. The fairy looked at him with wide eyes. He shook his head slightly, not understanding when he saw something come off of her. Glittery dust flowed off her hands from unseen places. Then it started to come off her hair and from the rest of her. She took a few quick steps to the right and did a kind of skip hop where she spun in the air with the dust and strands of golden light surrounding her. Without breathing at all he watched as she shrank to the size of a small doll in the air and sprouted wings from her back. They were like insect wings, but much more beautiful. They were the same color as her dress, gold and yellow with golden veins woven within. This happened within seconds; she was the size of him one moment then she was the size that you could hold her in your hand the next. Her whole being radiated a brilliant gold and yellow color now with her golden hair flowing out around her and dust falling off her. For a mere second she looked at him still with a kind and curious expression. Then the hoof beats became louder till they were almost out of the woods. Within a flash she sped off, faster then any insect or bird he had ever seen, into the river birch and willow trees lining the river away from his property. Frodo still stood on his spot, gap mouth after the stunning creature. The horse and rider rode into the clearing and down the slight slope following the pebble road till he was at the wooden gate leading to Frodo's home. Gandalf slid off and stood holding the mane of a white horse he had received from the elves. He saw Frodo, smiled, and was just raising his hand to wave when he saw that Frodo was as still as a statue looking into the branches of the birch trees. The smile slipped from his face. Gandalf shouted to Frodo, "Whatever are you looking at Mr. Baggins?" Gandalf's bushy eyebrows were raised almost to his hairline as he rushed over to the dazed form of Mr. Baggins who was sitting on the grass, his pipe dropped from his numb hand.  
  
The fairy ducked under branches and dark green leaves with all the speed within her thin wings. As she swerved away from a spider's web, she craned her neck for a view behind her. Nothing moved from behind. She slowed down and turned back to the way she had come. She was breathing hard and her eyes frantically searched the forest bed for any kind of movement. Safe in the knowledge that she hadn't been followed she let out a sigh and headed for home at a more leisurely pace. Back to Noncoty, Garden of the Fairy People. Along the way back the fairy, called by her people Kilter, was thinking of the fellow she had just encountered. She had been shocked. Fairies are wary folk to strangers, especially humans. But she told herself that he wasn't a human. Kilter smiled to herself and the absolute dumbfounded expression on the stranger face. She wasn't the only one to be surprised this morning. He's an interesting being. I wonder why I didn't take notice of his home before, she thought to herself. Actually she had been swimming higher upstream and must have drifted downward with the current. "He has pleasant features to look upon. Handsome even," she softly said to herself. Her arms had been slightly outstretched while flying, but once she enter the secluded area, she brought them to her side and landed outside the gateway of Noncoty. The gateway was an opening between two huge lily plants and completing the fence around the community were tall Rhododendrons. Outside that were small ash, walnut, maple and beech trees. She had lived here all her life and she always took note of the simple beauty of the place. But since she was distracted by the thought of the 'hobbit' she failed to look at the sight now. The gateway was level with the earth, but at the first step immediately she was on ground level of the whole city. The city ground was a foundation of different types of leaves of plants. There was no need for the ground to be suspended from underneath because firstly they were quite light and secondly they didn't make their homes on the grounds but above within the flower heads. The homes stretched up for six feet. They did not look like any homes that people, dwarves, or even elves would live in because they weren't constructed from scratch. One home was a connection of one type of flower where you entered from the flower head. Rooms were connected from one flower head to another by the flowers leaves, which the fairies used as stairs. Rooms were expanded upon by burrowing into the stem, but this was a rare thing because these were not ordinary flowers. These were much larger, with one head of the flower fitting many fairies comfortably, even up to ten fairies. Each household had a different sort of plant making the city a true garden. Today Kilter did not head for home or to one of her friends places, but instead went to the back of the garden. To the Great Hall where her father, Itopa, the King of the Fairies usually was with his councilors. The Hall was a large Azaleas bush and was the only place in the city to be constructed. There was a carved door out of wood with ancient writing of the Fairies of old upon it. Within, there were wooden walls where sacred armor, swords, portraits of the most powerful fairies who had first traveled from the East into the West, and staffs and objects of great magic. Usually Itopa did not take his meetings within, but in an open room with a balcony. Outside the door were some stray trilliums that were not large enough to use as homes yet. Kilter floated onto an outstretched leaf. With her legs dangling she plucked the petals off of a flower that had caught in her hair and had shrank with her. She started to hum to herself a merry tune as she thought of questions about 'the hobbit.' Where did this little man, who is the same size as me, come from?  
Is he some sort of fairy?  
"No, of course not for he told me himself that he was a 'hobbit' something," she said quietly with an expression of disapproval as if the flower had asked the silly question.  
"The look of him I like very much," she continued to speak to the flower. "I would like to see him again." At the thought of seeing 'the hobbit' again she imagined scenes of what it would be like to speak with him a second time.  
So distracted was she that she didn't hear her father come out the front door, coat billowing behind him where his councilors followed.  
"Ask the Montauk people again if they have a settlement out west towards the big river. We don't want to alarm anyone when we travel there during the winter," Itopa waved his finger in a casual gesture behind his ear and then scratched his lightly bearded chin. Although fairies were skittish of humans, they were particularly close with the Native people. The fairies recognized that the Native humans respected and worshipped the land, which the fairies were a part of. The people saw them as godlike and the fairies were able to trust the natives. In this way they lived together peacefully, helping each other when needed, and even participating in each other celebrations.  
One of the councilors spoke up, "I think we have covered everything for today. Will that be all, Your Great?" This councilor was young and eager to go courting his lady.  
Itopa rubbed his nose and thought. "Yes, yes that will be all. I can handle the rest for myself. Thank you." He smiled kindly upon them all and they in turn smiled graciously upon him. The young eager one flew off at once and the older ones, who in appearance did not look much older because fairies age very slowly, hovered through the air, like they were walking without moving their legs at all. The group moved away slowly while talking with each other. The sunlight bounced off their mixture of golden wheat, light blond, and reddish blond hair as their clothing of blue, yellow, and purple mixed with the blue bells.  
Itopa scratched his waving golden hair that just stopped above his ears as he gazed down at his parchment made of dried rose leaves. Just then a pink petal landed on his long nose. He looked at it, crossed eye, before gazing up to find his daughter throwing even more petals into the air. All of which landed on him. His eyes turned merry as he chuckled loudly, the sound echoing all around the two. Kilter started from her daze and looked down to where the sound was coming from. Spying the familiar face below she smiled impishly.  
"Why Kilt! I did not see you up in your high perch above the doorstep. And what a mess you've made!" Itopa called up to her as he brushed random petals off of his robe.  
"Sorry father, but, you see, I have just had the most extraordinary morning down by the river," she said in a rush. She bounced off of her seat and hovered before him. "I just met this creature who said that he was something called a hobbit. He was a very interesting person with-um" she rolled her hand before her while biting her lip. As she searched for the word her father buzzed around her and landed back on the ground while proceeding forward. She finally looked down again and saw that he was no longer there. She turned her head this way and that until she saw him walking away from her. She spurted forward until she was right behind him and landed while she continued, "with a pipe. Like the natives use. Well, he wasn't using it at the time only holding it in his hand, but he was about to use it. I'm amazed we didn't spot him before. He was very oddly shaped with a-"  
"We knew of his existence Kilter," Itopa calming interrupted. He walked on with his hands behind his back observing the new growth. Kilter trailed behind him wide eye with her mouth still shaped in the next word she was going to say and her hand flat in front of her. Kilter shook her head sharply and stopped. "What? You...You knew that he was around and- and..." she ran off looking confused. Suddenly she asked, "When did you find out? WHO found him?"  
He was looking at her oddly for her outburst. And really she couldn't blame him. Why was she upset? Putting it from her mind she determined to be more reasonable about this. "Well to your first question," Itopa turned and continued to gaze about, "about four seasons(1) ago. He had just landed onto the shore with some strangers(2) and some of the race called elves, you recall me talking of them. It was Gerton who first saw the creature. Actually he almost discovered Gerton, but he flew away in safety before some strangers came to investigate. There was one other of his kind that looked very old, but no one has seen that one since. Reports have come to me of the Natives helping the creature build a home, but he seems to be harmless so I have let him be."  
Kilter still stood where she had stopped and was smiling slightly to herself. "Do you think that I can speak with him?"  
"Why would you want to? The reports also tell me that he doesn't seem to be very interesting, or for that matter a creature of much intelligence."  
She snapped out of reverie and looked at her father questionably as he studied a leaf in his hand. "But...But he must be of some interest if the Natives helped him?"  
"Yes, possibly, but the...hobbit did you call it? The hobbit is friends with the elves and the Natives have a high regard for that race. They may have been helping to please the elves." He nonchalantly let go of the flower and turned back to the vine path that curved down to the city level.  
"But still father," she raced after him and stopped at his elbow, "If the elves like him, there most be something about him?"  
"Hum. That could be true," Itopa admitted with a hint of doubt still in his tone.  
Will it be all right if I go back to see the hobbit? Do you think it wise?"  
He shrugged and said, "If you really wish to. I still don't think you will find anything of interest. But no harm will come to you. You always had a fascination with everything." He shook his head, but he smiled down at her taking to brunt off of it. She smiled back at him and answered, "All fairies have a curious nature. You were the exception." She smiled wider to take the brunt off of her words then suddenly flew off and towards home at a quick pace.  
He smiled after her, completely muddled about the conversation. He breathed deeply of the scent of wild roses growing near the vine and continued to stroll down its length.  
  
1. There are three months to every season and this is how they tell the passage of time. 2. The fairies call humans who are not native to the West 'strangers.' 


End file.
